


Changeling - on hiatus, updates sporadic

by chararii



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Character Death, Dark, Gen, Gore, Haruno Sakura-centric, Horror, Psychological Horror, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25829956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chararii/pseuds/chararii
Summary: The night of Naruto's birth is a disaster. Uzumaki Kushina's seal cracks and breaks under the strain of childbirth. The chance for something like this to happen is less than one in a million.Minato makes a mistake and it ruins everything.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Kyuubi | Nine-tails | Kurama
Comments: 100
Kudos: 273
Collections: Sakura Variety Pack





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is me, trying something new again. It's going to be something of a mini series with a handful of chapters, most likely less than 30k but who knows.
> 
> Serious warnings for graphic gore and horror.
> 
> Enjoy!

The night of Naruto's birth is a disaster. Uzumaki Kushina's seal cracks and breaks under the strain of childbirth. The chance for something like this to happen is less than one in a million. There is no foreign interference, no evil eye bringing fire and destruction to the village. A simple design flaw in a seal that cannot be perfected and no amount of Uzumaki fuinjutsu proficiency can fix that. Foxes are tricky beasts after all and the second the first fissures appear in the thick golden bars of his prison, Kurama knows his time has come.

He prowls and waits, and at the height of his jailor's agony and pain, he throws himself against his prison cell. Kushina immediately becomes aware of what the fox is doing. Through tears, gasps and screams she breathlessly whispers one single word:

'Kyuubi.'

In a flash of bright yellow light, her husband is beside her armed with scrolls, ink and enough determination to bring down an army. The hospital room descends into chaos as the Yondaime Hokage does his best to reinforce the seal while doctors attempt to keep the young mother alive. The ink on Kushina's stomach starts to unravel and the nurses panic. Minato's hands begin to shake as he draws line upon line on his wife's skin, anything to keep the beast inside and his son alive-

The lights flicker, light bulbs burst, and Kushina _screams_. Faster than he can stop it, faster than Minato can draw, the seal uncoils like a snake, slithers down the Uzumaki's legs and arms.

Machines begin beeping as her vitals drop and the screaming just won't stop. Tears run down the nursing staff's faces as fear grips their hearts and squeezes tight. One after another they pass out, suffocated by the vile killing intent seeping through the breaking seal. Beads of sweat form on Minato's forehead as his fingers cramp up and he drops the brush, knowing there's nothing he can do to save his wife.

Whispers start filling the air accompanied by low growls and snarls as shadows creep along the edges of the room. The fox hurls himself against the bars over and over again, can almost taste freedom on his tongue. Minato is frozen. All he can do is look at her, the light of his life, her teeth that grow and turn into fangs, her pupils that turn to slits, her iris that glows in an eerie damning crimson. The skin on her cheeks splits and bleeds as whiskers grow from nothing, and her face warps, changes into a horrific blend of human and fox.

The doctor calls his name and wakes him from his stupor. In his hands, he holds a baby. Their baby. For a single moment all his terror vanishes, imminent doom disappears from his mind. Minato extends his arms, reaches for his son, is so close to touching him when suddenly, red clouds his vision. The doctor's mouth is opened in a silent scream and he looks down at the gigantic claw piercing his stomach. Minato is shellshocked, cannot move or react as he stares at the claw of the beast, bringer of nightmares, beast of destruction.

A puff of hot air touches his neck and Minato doesn't dare turn around and face what his wife has become. The doctor crumbles, young dear _innocent_ Naruto still in his hands. In a flash, Minato disappears and comes to a stand in front of the man, tears his son from his grasp and holds the babe close to his chest.

The whispers are joined by a low rumble that fills the room, vibrates so strongly the windows shatter. Minato stays still, anything to avoid startling the feral monster that used to be his wife and digs his fingers into the soft skin of the grimy newborn. His son or the village. That's what it boils down to. He could hiraishin to his office, begin immediate emergency planning. But his son... he needs... g _od, Kushina._

He cannot break down. They count on him. This entire village looks up to him for guidance and he _cannot fail them now_. It takes Minato less than half a second to make a decision. Then, he's gone. An unholy roar shakes the very foundations of the hospital as he appears in the nursery and hands his son to a nurse, tears running down his sooty face.

Kushina is dead and gone, taken over by the fox in the heart of the village. Minato's world goes up in flames, turns to ash, dust and little more than memories. He has no time to stop and fully take in the loss. Reaching for the anchor etched into the underside of his desk, Minato appears in his office. They're all already assembled and the first thing he does is send someone, anyone, for Jiraiya. His old teacher has been spotted close to their border mere days ago and Minato prays he's not far.

He knows what he has to do and he cannot do it alone.

The Hokage then loses himself in evacuation protocols before selecting a specialised group of shinobi and flinging himself across the village, back into Kushina's room. It's a mess. Glass splinters litter the floor, electronics spark and crackle, walls and the ceiling are covered in thick sludgy shadows.

And in the centre of it all, on a broken bed, hunches what remains of his wife. Tufts of orange hair have replaced wide patches of skin. The bones in her face are broken and pierce her lips, a mangled combination of face and snout. Fangs as long as his arm have sprouted from the bloody remains of her mouth. Dark eyes he'd come to love so many years ago are red and they look at him like he's the enemy.

Kushina- not Kushina, the _monster_ moves its legs backwards and in horror Minato watches as her bones crack and her spine breaks through her skin, rolls backwards in something grotesquely reminiscent of a tail. Claws dig themselves into the ground with rash, rattled breaths as more bones pop, muscles tear and patch themselves back together to accommodate for a beast with four legs instead of two.

He looks at his former wife, former because Kushina is dead, and finds the fox staring back. Fury races through his veins and punch through the cloak of fear and terror the kyuubi has weaved around him. His chakra roils and surges as he launches himself at the demon. It can still be killed. It's still jailed inside Kushina's corpse, working on eviscerating the last barrier of its jail.

Minato's fists are lightning and strike nowhere. A growl above him and thick strands of saliva dripping onto his shoulders are the only warning he gets. Pain blooms in his face as the sharp edges of a single claw swipe across his skin. Minato's vision swims as nausea claims him. He tries to figure out what happened as he searches for his weapon that got lost somewhere along the way.

A horrifying slurp forces him to raise his head just in time to see the monster curl its long tongue around a brilliant sapphire eye. With a squelch, it bursts as the beast bites down on it and licks its tattered lips.

Minato clutches the left side of his face and his fingers come away red after poking at the gaping nothingness where his left eye used to be. The monster rasps a throaty laugh, a ghastly sounds with hints of Kushina's soft chuckles and Minato _hates_. The room turns into a battlefield as he screams and throws himself against the beast. He sustains countless injuries because no matter how fast he is, the monster is faster. His arms and legs sport deep gashes and he can barely see through the blood running down his face from a head injury he sustained earlier. There is no winning here and everything he does brings the beast one step closer to escaping.

Minato bites his lip hard enough to split it in two and palms his last remaining sealing tag. There's no other way. He cries salty tears as he prays to his newborn son for forgiveness. Throwing his pronged kunai at the beast, Minato yanks at its essence until he is right in front of the creature that will haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. He wastes no time slapping the seal onto its chest, crying even harder when the skin gives in and his fist burrows itself in its chest. It's not Kushina. The words are a steady chant in his mind that's slowly slipping off-centre.

The beast snarls and lunges but Minato is quicker. He sends his chakra into the seal and the demon is gone. A mere second later, an ear-shattering roar echoes in the woods just outside the gate. His hands shiver, his body wants to give in but he can't. Not yet. He has a duty to fulfil, even if it means having to sacrifice his only son for the good of the many. As a father, Minato wants to take Naruto and run away. As Hokage, he knows he can't afford to.

He teleports back to the nursery and the scene that awaits him grips his heart in terror and squeezes. The entire room is little more than rubble and dust. He can see a pair of legs poking out from underneath a crumbled pillar. Another nurse nearly made it to the exit before she got her head caved in by heavy machinery that fell on her. Minato forces his eye shut, tries not to hyperventilate as he desperately searches the room for his son. He ignores the dead babies, has to because if he doesn't he'll lose what little remains of his sanity.

His gaze gets stuck on a baby blue crib and he remembers a nurse placing Naruto in this very spot so Minato rushes closer and nearly falls to his knees in sheer relief and joy. There he is, his little baby boy, wrapped in a towel, a mere dusting of light hair on his tiny head. His eyes are still closed but Minato knows, simply _knows_ , that they look like his. He stares at his child, whispers that he loves him, then holds him tight against his chest before disappearing in yet another flash.

Minato is close, so unbelievably close to having his head liberated from his shoulders when he reappears on the clearing he sent the beast to. It looks worse now, so much worse than before and he can barely stand to look at it. One single ear pokes through Kushina's lovely red hair, covered in blood and a few tiny shards of bone. Half its face is now overgrown with fur while its jaw hangs low, dislocated and only barely attached to the rest of its skull, held in place by torn shreds of skin.

It howls and growls, snaps its fangs at Minato who bites his teeth when its claws carve a deep furrow into his back. Pushing through the pain because there's no time, never enough time, he carefully places Naruto on the ground, out of the beast's reach. There's no sealing array, no preparations were made. He has to use the method Kushina whispered to him so many moons ago, the only way to seal a rampaging bijuu without an array to ease the process. Minato is just about to begin layering elemental jutsu to trap the still weakened monster in place when suddenly, it begins to talk.

“Mi...na...” He breaks when he heard his wife's voice, twisted and warped beyond recognition yet still unmistakably hers. His eyes water once more as he stares at this amalgamation of hatred and malice that has taken root inside the only one he ever loved. Its eyes are less focused, clouded over by something Minato would recognise anywhere.

“Kushina...,” he breathes as if he can't grasp that she is still in there, somewhere, no matter how faint the echo. He takes a single step forward only to pause when an incredibly sharp claw pauses mere inches from his face. It shakes and wavers as if it both wants and doesn't want to cleave him in two.

“Ca...n't hold... f...for lo...ng.” Every gasp that leaves her mouth sounds so impossibly pained like speaking tears at her very soul. She heaves and coughs, spits thick black blood onto the lush grass beneath her feet. Minato stares, cannot take his eyes off her, wants to reach out so desperately-

“Hu...rry...” He sobs once, broken and dying, before tearing his gaze off of her. He doesn't think, doesn't stop as he reaches into his jacket to gather his supplies. Minato's hands shake and he forces them to still before beginning to draw the symbols onto Naruto's stomach. It's the Uzumaki's final resort, their ultimate technique, a method that works only on their own. He apologises softly as he makes a tiny cut on his son's chest and coats his fingers in the liquid.

Behind Minato, the growling and snarling commence along with a harrowing shriek that sounds so much like Kushina, he jumps and trembles. Refusing to turn around no matter how much his soul aches to watch his wife's final moments, to remember her one last time, Minato draws lines, circles and letters onto his newborn's belly.

“I... lo...ve...” The sickening sound of breaking bones, tearing muscle and bursting organs makes Minato whirl around just as he places his flat palm onto the seal to activate it. Kushina is gone, reduced to a mess of blood and gore on the ground, a red sea of flesh and decay seeping into the earth. In between the two mangled halves of her body, is a single giant claw.

A massive shadow looms over Minato, so dark and tall it blocks out every single star in the sky. Searing hot killing intent assaults every cell in his body, renders him immobile as he slowly burns an agonising death from the inside. A single red eye hovers in the air in front of him, douses his silhouette in an unholy crimson.

“You are weak,” the fox growls and creeps even closer until Minato can feel its foul breath in his face. The eye shifts to the side, sharpens upon laying eyes on Naruto. Then, the beast does something unexpected. It's eye widens for a mere second, then it begins to laugh. Every hair on Minato's body rises up as he's overcome by the urge to scratch his skin until it bled.

“How foolish.” Minato frantically tries to turn around or even move his head, see what the monster is so amused by and what it has to do with his son, when all thoughts fail him. Stupefied, his gaze dips lower and lower until it comes to a rest on his belly and the claw firmly lodged in his rib cage. He feels no pain, feels nothing at all yet he cannot move or act. Red runs along the monster's talon, drips softly into the grass and Minato watches as the life seeps out of his body.

When the fox moves, he brings the agony. Minato screams as the sharp claw drags lower and lower, gradually splitting his body in two. He clutches the talon, paws at it helplessly but is too weak to fight it. Weak, weak, _weak_. Minato screams and screams, begs for this unbearably agony to end yet stands strong and firm, as last barrier between the devourer of worlds and his only child.

Naruto. The name cuts through the haze and stirs what little remains of the fire in his soul. Minato grits his teeth and takes a deep final breath just before the beast tears his lungs apart. With a mighty cry, he twists around, rips his own flesh as he pushes his body against the talon, cutting deep and wide into his torso. He's going to die and it's a matter of seconds, Minato knows this, so summoning the last drops of chakra, he reaches out and drags his blood-stained palm over Naruto's stomach.

The beast howls and screeches as harsh winds pour from the seal, whip past Minato's head and assault the demon. It tries to fight it, curses, spits, tramples and roars but there's no escaping its fate. Minato slumps over, held upright only by the talon skewering his insides, and grins viciously. He won. The fox lost. That's all that counts. And Naruto is safe. The seal will hold. Kushina has sworn on her honour as Uzumaki. Their sacred clan relic would keep its bearer safe and sheltered from the vileness of its captive.

“You... fool,” the fox rasps as it stops fighting the pull and allows the seal to absorb its very essence. As it disappears within the child, all Minato can hear is a chuckle so cold and devious, he forgets for a single moment that he's only hanging onto life by a rapidly unravelling thread. Now that the claw is gone, he falls forward, onto his knees. He has seconds left.

“I'm so... sorry... Naruto...” Minato weakly heaves his heavy palm onto his son, fingers shakily curling into the towel wrapped around his lower half.

“I... love... you...” His hand slips as he loses all strength. A single finger gets caught on the towel and accidentally drags it down with it. Minato draws his last breath just in time for his remaining eye to widen in horror upon realising why the demon fox's last words had been mockery.

The child he sealed with the Uzumaki seal is not a boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been ages but I need to be in a very specific mood to write this so I hope you understand!
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter. :)

Kurama is an ancient being, a fox, a schemer and a trickster. He is old and patient. He has _time_. His natural instinct is to fight. Not another jailor, not another hundred years of captivity. This is the first taste of freedom he's had in what feels like forever and he refuses to give it up. But this yellow-haired human is resilient. Just as resilient as the feisty redhead that he, at last, consumed and broke from the inside out. The Uzumaki witch is craftier than he expected and in his arrogance, he paid the price.

Except... well. Except this human has made a _mistake_. Kurama wants to break out into laughter but not yet. Not until it is truly too late to turn back. He mangles this man, sinks a single sharp claw into his body, cuts soft flesh like butter. Furious red chakra seeps from his very being into that man and sears his insides, drags him down into the deepest pits of fiery agony.

Kurama growls in fierce unbridled pleasure as he tortures his very soul. This one thinks he can tame him, trick him, out think him. No being is sharper or more elusive than a fox and it's a lesson Kurama will teach him before his weak mortal shell gives in. He keeps a single eye on the child at all times while he floods his victim with his essence of hatred, tears at his soul and sanity.

Kurama knows what and who is coming and that one way or another, he will find himself caged once more. Unless he does the smart thing. And Kurama has _always_ done the smart thing. Inevitably, his hold of terror on the man breaks as he summons his resolve and activates the seal. The fox has almost forgotten the twisting, shattering pain that is being torn apart into tiny shreds of chakra just small enough to be squeezed through the narrow gate of that seal. He howls and screeches, every part of his being rallying for a fight as instincts overtake him. This seal, masterwork of the original Uzumaki witch, is designed to torture and wreck him, bind him to the essence of those rotten witches and warlocks. It's designed to subdue his will, erase everything that makes him, turn him into little more than a weak and docile chakra battery. He feels himself being pulled to pieces and he roars.

It is in that very moment, mere seconds away from total loss of control the consequences of which will have Kurama bound to an even worse fate, that he first makes contact with his new host. And remembers. A pained raspy gurgle escapes his throat as he laughs at this human, revels in the colossal mistake he has made, and insults him one once more before he stops fighting and works towards plotting his new, suddenly much more promising, future.

As ill-designed as this seal is for the shell it has been applied to, it is still the product of cruel genius. Even now Kurama feels himself fading, dragged into an endless sleep as all his chakra is sapped by the containment barrier around his new cell. He will recover, knows this deep down in his very soul, since even now he can see how ill-fitted these bars are for the environment they were created for. Yet there is one last thing he has to do.

Gathering and violently pulling at the last shreds of his chakra, he pushes it past those bars which are too wide and too easy to slip through, and forces it into his jailor's body. Clenching his jaw, fighting the overwhelming urge to rest, Kurama pushes and pushes and _pushes_ until an incredibly thin string of his own chakra is threaded into this young human's pathways.

He cannot see anymore, is too weak to look through its eyes into the world around, but feels the change even as his consciousness gradually fades to black.

The baby resting on green lush grass, surrounded by blood and mangled bodies, shimmers then flickers for a second as pink fuzz turns blonde, green eyes convert to blue and what rests between its legs changes shape.

The man in front of it died knowing he has doomed this village. Kurama has the last laugh. And _oh_ , what a wonderful laugh it is.

When Sarutobi Hiruzen first arrives at the scene, he staggers, doubles over and vomits. He's an old man, a battle-hardened shinobi that has seen death, war and everything in between. But this? This is a kind of sheer carnage he has never experienced before and knows will never forget. He can barely look at what remains of Kushina, the red-haired spitfire his successor has been so in love with. If it weren't for a few crimson strands littering the ground he would not have recognised her.

She's a mess of splintered bone, a large puddle of blood, bits of flesh and organs strewn across the grass. A shining beacon of life, love and laughter reduced to little more than a red stain on a background of green. And Minato... Hiruzen wheezes and clutches his heart before forcing his breathing to even out. His student's favoured protegee is cut up like a piece of meat, nearly quartered. Flies are already attracted to the corpse and crawling into his empty eye socket. Nearby, a raven caws but before it can settle down to feast on Kushina's heart, Hiruzen impales the bird with a kunai.

He stands there without moving for a while. Even if he knew what to do, he couldn't bring himself to fall into action. Hiruzen is an old man with his fair share of failures yet he can't help but wonder if he couldn't have done something, _anything_ , to prevent the deaths that occurred during this cursed night.

A sudden wail shakes him from his stupor. Hiruzen turns his head and only then notices the tiny human halfway obscured by Minato's head and warm. He can't suppress the gasp even as tears of joy stream down his face at the realisation that at least their son would live on. He shadowsteps to the baby's side, crouches down low only to finally see the angry red seal etched into its belly.

Hiruzen closes his eyes and sends a prayer to the shinigami, begging them to treat Minato well while also asking for mercy for his own flesh and blood. The fox is gone, forced into young Uzumaki Naruto who will grow up an orphan and with a demon in his stomach. He cannot imagine the pain this decision must have caused Minato and goes on his knees in front of his successor, presses his forehead into the grass to pay him the respect he deserves. He lingers for a moment, allows himself to mourn, then steels his nerves. Someone has to go on and with Jiraiya on the way but still so far away, the role falls to him.

His hand hovers over the baby's stomach and with a quick jolt of chakra, the seal disappears from view. Young Naruto already has enough burdening him. If he can, Hiruzen will avoid branding him with this particular fate on top of all that's already happened.

In hindsight, it is a shame that he closes his eyes, unable to bear the view of the last remains of two who were most precious to him. What he misses is a faint ripple that spreads over the infant's skin, a barely noticeable distortion that momentarily reveals its true nature. By the time Hiruzen bows down to gently pick it off the ground, he is once more faced with blonde fuzz and the anatomy of a boy.

He runs as fast as his aged legs carry him. The ANBU patrol meeting him halfway, is given instructions to clean up the site and burn the corpses. Hiruzen cannot allow Minato and his wife to be buried. Nobody can see what he saw. The news of the Yondaime's death will already shake the population, cloud their minds with fear that Hiruzen has to contain to the best of his ability. One ANBU asks him about the kyuubi. Hiruzen replies that it is taken care of, yet refuses to share the details.

When he hands the infant to the matron of Konoha's orphanage, he tells her to watch over the boy and that he will be back to check on him later. Later, once the most pressing issues have been taken care of. The woman nods and takes the boy inside, then instructs one of the young helpers to make sure he's alright. A lot of men and women died in the wake of the hospital's near total collapse. This child will not be the first they'll take in tonight.

Everything blurs together after that. Hiruzen delves into the never ending duty of trying to hold the village together. His home is fragmented, rubble and ash, it's corpses, death and devastation and everything he feels, he seals away, so far deep down it cannot hinder him. He won't allow it. The council has already made the decision, elected him back into his old position. He does the job they assign him but the shame is too great and he refuses to even touch Minato's hat.

They pester him for details. Were he a little stronger, a little younger, a little less scarred, he wouldn't cave. But Hiruzen is old and weak and his heart is carved to pieces. It takes mere hours until everyone knows what happened to the kyuubi and once he realises what he has done, Hiruzen bites his tongue hard enough to bite off its tip. He barely feels the pain.

It takes him three days of no sleep, no rest, until he has a moment to breathe. Jiraiya will be here soon but he cannot wait any longer. The trip to the orphanage is a short one. The place itself is a mess. Too many children and too little space. The woman in charge begs him for more food and he gives her his promise while refusing to acknowledge the fact that they're _all_ hungry and that he doesn't know how to keep his word. In the short time the fox was free, it burned fields, destroyed crops, feasted upon helpless civilians.

Hiruzen shakes his head, forces the thoughts away. Instead, he asks them to show him the boy he brought in. Wading through masses of children, Hiruzen fails to notice a pair of almost glowing jade eyes following him.

Naruto is healthy. Hiruzen recognises him immediately. The matron watches him so he doesn't dare check the seal just yet. The boy seems normal and Minato's work has always, _always_ been impeccable. He already ruined Naruto's chances for acceptance among the shinobi ranks. He doesn't doubt that in time, the secret will make its way to civilian ears, but for now he will give the boy every chance he can.

He's not sure how long he stares at the boy, ponders his regrets, mentally apologises over and over again. Children and grown women both move around him yet he's so caught up in his grief that when one of them carries a tiny pink-haired babe, he doesn't feel the barely noticeable tendrils of red that are wrapped around its neck. There's countless children surrounding him. During the three days between his first visit and his last, a handful of babes have been recovered from the ruined nursery.

Too bad he doesn't know that one of them was the blonde child he's currently cradling to his chest. And that the one he recovered from the sealing site is being moved past him to be fed with a bottle. Mistakes, assumptions and little bouts of inattention keep piling up and despite his deep slumber, Kurama grows, feeds and regains his strength with each second that passes.

When Hiruzen leaves, he feels less dread. Thinks the future is secured and stable. He's so terribly misguided of course, but such simply is the nature of things. He will learn soon enough. Kurama will ensure that.

Of course, the ruse cannot last forever. It takes weeks yet eventually, Jiraiya sets foot into the village. He goes through the stages of denial, anger and grief within days before entering the orphanage in the dead of the night, sneaking through the nursery window like a thief. Boys and girls are colour-coded, blue and red respectively yet he doesn't need the guidance. He spots blonde hair, the exact same shade as Minato's, and knows he has found his student's son.

He takes the boy and cradles him, stops and stares for a minute. Time resumes eventually, and he carries him back to the Hokage tower where Hiruzen is already waiting. They travel down several flights of stairs, go deeper and deeper until they enter the most secure underground bunker in the entire village. Not even ANBU are able to access this location and with each door they pass through, another set of seals lights up in a brilliant golden glow.

There is no safer place in all of Fire, possibly the entire nations. It is where Jiraiya gently places Naruto on a stone pedestal and unwraps the bundle of cloth keeping him warm. The lack of seal doesn't bother him at first; Hiruzen tells him about the genjutsu he used to hide the mark from sight. A perfectly reasonable course of action, they both agree.

Until the Hokage dispels the genjutsu. Suddenly, nothing is alright anymore.

Jiraiya stills. Hiruzen can't breathe. He tries again. And again. Frantically, he keeps mumbling 'Kai!' over and over again. The boy's stomach remains bare. Jiraiya eventually, after swallowing audibly, lays his hands onto the child and searches for something he knows, deep down, isn't there. He is distracted momentarily, by Hiruzen crumbling to his knees.

“I took him... saw the seal... impossible,” the older man whispers in horror as countless scenarios run through his mind, none of which make sense. He couldn't have mistaken Naruto for anyone else. He is the only child of his hair and eye colour in the orphanage, if not the entire village. His memories of that cursed night, no matter how hard he tried to bury them, are still vivid. He forces himself to remember, clenches his teeth as he goes through image after image.

There's no possible way he got it wrong. The child at the sealing site had been Naruto. The child they have with them, who is missing the seal and consequently, the kyuubi, is Naruto.

“How is this possible?” Hiruzen mumbles incoherently, rational thought gradually making way for sheer naked panic. He recalls fire, flame, blood, gore and bones, death, ashes, red hair, blonde hair, orange fur, _those red red eyes that haunt his nightmares_ -

He wakes up in the hospital, Jiraiya by his side. The white-haired man doesn't dare look at him as he whispers the true nature of the horror. He combed through the orphanage. Checked every single boy as carefully as possible. Not a single one bares the mark. He inspected Naruto over and over again, subjected the boy to countless painful rituals, practically tortured the young one in an effort to double, triple-check him over and over again only to come up with the same result.

Naruto does not carry the kyuubi. No boy in the village does. Kurama is a monster, devourer of worlds, bringer of death, a terror hiding in the dark that could take the nations and pry them to pieces with its sharp claws.

Kurama is a monster. And they lost him.

Hiruzen and Jiraiya spend days checking every child in the village. Soon, they stop restricting themselves to age. They keep their terrible secret between them, don't dare think of the consequences if this secret makes it to the public. Name after name they visit after sunset, run themselves ragged. All their efforts are in vain. There is no seal. No kyuubi. No jinchuuriki.

They don't check the orphanage again. Don't look at girls. Minato's son is a boy. The seal is designed to work with males. Minato would never make such a grievous mistake. Jiraiya and Hiruzen know him too well for that.

Their faith blinds them to the possibility that Minato may have made a mistake after all. They still never look at the girls.

Konoha officially lost their bijuu. Hiruzen and Jiraiya seal each other to ensure the secret never comes out. Naruto grows up to be scorned. In the shadows, a girl with green eyes and pink hair grows up to be normal. So normal that, combined with her lovely exotic looks, she eventually gets adopted by a nice civilian couple.

Haruno Kizashi and Haruno Mebuki are overjoyed to take home their new little daughter. She's only two years old but already the love of their lives. They name her Sakura, after the lively shade of her hair.

Every night they sing her to sleep, they look at her adoringly, then close the door behind them.

Every night they sing her to sleep, the noise is blocked out by the dark raspy whispers that call her name.


	3. Chapter 2.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter but with the next part starting off the main focus on Sakura and Kurama, it is what it is.

Haruno Mebuki loves her child. Ever since she was small she dreamt of a family of her own with a husband and two children, living in a nice house and pursuing her clan's merchant business. The first few years of her life agreed with her wishes. Her family prospered despite being civilians in a military village and she grew up with the education she desired, all the shoes and dresses she liked and the knowledge that life was going to be perfect.

Until she was attacked by a bandit on the way home from Tea country and left with the knowledge that she would never be able to bear children. It took her a decade to recover from that blow and even then, the wound never quite healed. The plucky young man she was introduced to at the daimyo's court helped and they married within the year. Still, children were forever out of Mebuki's reach.

“You look deep in thought, dear.” She looks up and momentarily gets distracted by the green of her daughter's eyes. Heavens above, she adores the colour. It's what drew her to the girl when Kizashi and her visited the orphanage in the wake of the demon's attack. A day she's not sure how she survived – except for her grandmother, her entire clan was wiped out.

“I love our child,” she replies and reaches for the baby, softly stroking its cheek. Sakura's eyelashes flutter open and closed, revealing a glimpse of the almost unnaturally bright jade, then hiding it once more. Mebuki doesn't know why those eyes fascinate her so, why the colour tends to mesmerise her for minutes at a time. All she knows is that she's never seen anything like it before and that she truly is the most blessed mother in the entire village.

“She's beautiful,” Kizashi agrees and moves to pat Sakura's head. Her eyes open once more, jade glints and glitters like the most precious of gems and Mebuki is caught. Her body shifts automatically, a natural and unconscious movement, but Kizashi's fingers collide with her arm before they can touch their daughter. He smiles and turns the aborted movement into a loving gesture, not thinking much of it.

Mebuki stares and stares, caught in countless worlds of green that draw her in, reach for her, make her fall in love, so much love, with what they hide deep inside. For a split second, they shift and a single flash of red breaks through the surface. Mebuki cannot see chakra so she doesn't notice just as she fails to see the faint glint of red just hovering on the edge of her own mossy eyes.

Haruo Mebuki loves her child, her husband, and her business. Life is perfect.

Sakura is a normal child. She's a bit quiet but not to the degree that it would be unusual and her calm, serene nature is considered a blessing by her parents and the people around them. She quickly develops a reputation as an incredibly polite and well-behaved child, if only because she stays out of sight and rarely makes noise unless prompted. She learns to walk at the same age as other young ones do, her first word is 'mama' and all in all, Sakura is perfectly average. Hardly anybody looks at her twice. She's not the odd one out. Mebuki is.

There's a certain degree of lenience others tend to extend to young first-time parents. They worry constantly, can get tetchy or even aggressive when they feel their child is threatened or even stared at for a single second too long. Only time and experience mellows them, soothes their minds, calms their hearts.

It is because of that, that they chuckle and fondly roll their eyes when Mebuki gets a bit snappish whenever Kizashi is a bit too wild with Sakura for her tastes. He likes to pick her up, swing her around, play the rowdy games his parents played with him when he was a boy.

“Sakura is a princess,” she reminds him whenever he returns from the park, Sakura's dress muddy and torn. The first few times, she keeps the bite out of her voice. But time passes. Kizashi soon learns that motherhood has had quite an effect on Mebuki and acts accordingly. Soon, there's fewer dirty dresses or stained shoes and more finger paints or flute lessons.

'She's a bit clingy', he would say about his wife when his friends remark upon the lack of Sakura out and about. They chuckle, make a few good-natured jokes about their wives, and move on. Except when Kizashi returns home that night, just in time to sing Sakura to sleep, he finds her slumbering already.

“You were out,” Mebuki offers as an explanation and he shrugs it off just like he shrugs off the fact that from then on, tucking Sakura in is Mebuki's privilege that she no longer shares with him. Mothers can be odd, he tells himself and finds other times to be around and bond with his daughter instead.

But while most mothers eventually learn that their child will be alright and is not made out of porcelain, Mebuki doesn't. If anything, she grows worse. After a while, no matter what Kizashi does, she interferes.

“She's too young,” she says when he attempts to bake cookies with Sakura.

“She's too small,” she says when he tries to take her to dancing classes.

“What were you thinking, surrounding her with strangers!” she yells when he took her to meet his friends. Kizashi loves his wife but when Sakura is four and he rarely gets to interact with her anymore, he draws the line. The resulting argument can be heard in the entire district. He caves eventually, as he always does because he knows that due to her injury, Sakura is all Mebuki will ever have. That she needs their daughter to heal and could not bear losing her. He's not happy, far from it, but learns to live with the few times a day he gets to spend with his own child.

Entering Sakura in the academy is the last thing on Kizashi's mind. So when Mebuki presents him with the form and demands his signature, he cannot believe his eyes. He tries to get answers but is denied. All Mebuki does is stare at him until he adds his name right next to her on the submission form. Sakura is entered into the system at four years of age and will attend the academy next year when she's five. Kizashi reminds himself that he doesn't necessarily need to understand his wife. All he needs to do is love her. And love her he does.

Mebuki does not calm. Mebuki does not get better. He watches from afar how she refuses to ever let Sakura out of sight, their beloved daughter who is already quiet enough, pale and isolated since she hardly ever gets to go outside. She declines his offer to watch her for an hour so she can go get groceries and whatever else they need. Instead, she takes Sakura with her to the markets where she hisses and spits at those around her like a wild animal if they so much as look at her daughter.

Their business suffers so eventually, at the behest of Mebuki's mother who's old and frail and lives in the house next to them, he takes over Mebuki's duties. He doesn't spend a lot of time at home anymore but hears enough from his business partners and friends to make him worry. How Mebuki turns into a recluse. How she doesn't allow anyone near Sakura. How she physically attacked a woman in the streets simply for offering Sakura a small candy.

Kizashi tries to talk to her, then gets others to talk to her. One of his friends is a cousin of a Yamanaka who can only do so much when Mebuki doesn't even answer the door. He does what he can, eventually convinces her mother to try and make sure the two women in his life are fine. It works out. For a while.

Three weeks later, Haruno Miyuki dies of a heart attack. According to Mebuki, she simply went into a state of shock, then keeled over in the middle of cooking dinner. Those who come for the body echo the statement, confirm the cause of death, and take her away. The funeral is a quiet affair where Sakura's ghostly pale skin paints a harsh contrast to her black clothing. He doesn't see his daughter as much as he would like so instead of paying attention to the funeral, he watches Sakura instead.

She doesn't react to him for a while, quiet and unassuming, concentrating on her first touch with death. When Miyuki is six feet under and the crowd disperses, she finally turns her head and looks at him. It's her eyes he loves most, and as Kizashi stares into perfectly polished expanses of jade that remind him of spring, he falls in love with them all over again.

Kizashi, unwilling he may be, surrenders to his fate after that. He has to ensure the business does well to secure the family income. Whatever it is that goes on in his wife's head and home, he is no longer privy to it. Life continues.

He pays the fines when Mebuki gets charged with assault. He waves away his friends' concerns when they bring it up and lies when they ask about his daughter. They don't need to know that he has no idea how Sakura is doing, that he hasn't seen her in weeks. And most importantly, he does not question why he keeps making excuses. As a matter of fact, he does not question much of anything anymore. That, too, goes unnoticed.

They're a normal family with normal jobs, normal lives, normal oddities. Mebuki is widely regarded as an overly anxious mama bear, Sakura is considered a sheltered princess that is best not paid too much attention to, and Kizashi branded a loving if slightly spinless and indulgent man who takes care of his wife and child.

In comparison to other households who battle with alcoholism, domestic abuse, or infidelity, they're not quite as interesting and, once Mebuki's outbursts calm down a little, they begin to once more fly just underneath everyone's attention.

By the time Sakura is old enough to attend the academy, they are little more than an ordinary civilian family that's of no further note or interest to the men and women who casually vet this year's batch of would-be genin and those who surround them.

The few red stains in the Haruno bathroom and what is nestled away in the deepest corner of their freezer goes unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. :) Next chapter: Sakura's POV (at last).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is extremely hard to write for some reason. I really hope it holds up and if it doesn't I'm sorry but hey, I'm trying.
> 
> This is also where things really begin to take a turn.

To Sakura, the world is dull and dreary. Although dreary is perhaps the wrong word. She's small and sometimes, just when the sun goes down and she is brought to bed, she feels too tiny for her body. It's an odd feeling, one she can't quite describe but during those twilight hours, Sakura feels like she is more than what she appears.

Of course she is but a child. Her thoughts aren't nearly as complex as that. In truth, she is a little bored with her existence, does as her mother tells her, kisses her father on the cheek before he leaves for work until mother tells her that she should not do that anymore. She doesn't mind much. Sakura loves her parents but love is an odd concept she has trouble wrapping her head around.

Most days she is reluctant to get out of bed, leave the hovel of warm blankets and pillows that make up the incredibly spacious bed her mother bought just for her. Her entire room is much like an oven but Sakura never sweats as her mother does. Even when the heat outside is searing she buries herself underneath layers and layers for when she is warm and cosy, she is happiest.

She doesn't know that she is different. Sleeping for most of the day and only waking up to the delicious smell of raw red meat that she buries her sharp canines in to tear and rip at the flesh like an animal is nothing out of the ordinary. Sakura doesn't go outside much, has no contact with anyone her age or anyone else period.

Her father stops coming home eventually but it isn't like she minds and now that the entire house is as warm as her bedroom she has more space and doesn't have to put on scratchy fabric that weighs her down just because her mother said that she should not be undressed around him. She feels better now, a little freer and freedom is what she chases though she doesn't quite realise it. Rubbing herself against soft blankets and fur while her mother presents her with bloody, so deliciously juicy meat makes her curl her toes in pleasure as her throat vibrates. It doesn't sound right, not yet, but one day it will. She is sure of it.

The day her mother tells her that she signed her up for the academy, Sakura tastes rage for the first time in her life. She growls and unbeknownst to her the shadows in the already barely lit room grow even darker. They creep up the walls and the candles flicker in a breeze that wasn't there earlier. She bares her teeth, all sharp glinting tips and spreads her fingers, nails suddenly longer and sharper as she prowls towards her mother who doesn't move, doesn't act, doesn't do anything at all.

She takes a deep breath and smells the terror on her, the fear that has rendered her immobile. Her ears twitch as she moves closer and closer until she can hear the rush of blood in her veins, the beat of her heart and thinks about how easy it would be to force her hands through her chest, rip it apart and sink her teeth into the organ, squash it between her jaws, make it burst like a balloon-

_'Not yet.'_

From one moment to another, Sakura stops. The shadows are gone within the blink of an eye, her nails and teeth return to normal, the dark red haze clinging to her vision retreats. She barely notices how her mother deflates before shuffling away, fleeing to her bedroom and locking the door. All Sakura can focus on is the deep raspy whisper that rode along with the wave of her awareness, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.

_'You need her.'_

It's a growl, something dark and low that she has heard before countless times even though she can't remember when. It sits right at the back of her mind but if she focuses and listens closer, can follow the echoes to the centre of her stomach. She looks down and for the fraction of a second sees her pale skin shimmer and shift, revealing thick black lines and swirls whose edges glow in an eerie red.

“Who are you?” Her voice scratches and hurts from lack of use. Sakura doesn't like talking much, prefers to stay silent. The last remnants of anger have ebbed away along with the restlessness and agitation at the promise of having to leave her nest. She doesn't _like_ going outside, hates the cold, the people, the noise, everything.

_'A friend,'_ the whisper replies just as Sakura buries herself in dark furs and curls into a ball, eyes closed, fingers digging into the soft material. She breathes slowly and focuses on its sound and the way it makes her feel. She's warmer than before, especially in her belly and something within her resonates with it, makes her want to curl around the sound and go to sleep forever.

_'Your mother is a pathetic human but she only does what you told her to.'_

Sakura grips the fur tighter and sighs in pleasure, pulls her legs close to her chest so her stomach is the centre of her being and warms the rest of her. It's hard to listen to the whisper and understand its words for the way it makes her feel overcomes all other senses. It reeks of suggestion, of promise and heat, of dark shadows and roaring fires, strong winds and _power_ that chokes her until she can't breathe. It's everything and she itches to reach out, grasp it and pull it closer until it consumes her in her entirety.

_'Not yet, child. Not yet.'_

The whispers cling to her, flitter in and out of awareness. They are soft and gentle and so _dark_ and _warm_ and when they begin to drag her down and down, lull her into a restful sleep, Sakura never once thinks of fighting them.

The voice, or the whisper as Sakura calls it, doesn't talk to her often. It comes and goes at its own leisure and a part of her cannot help but resent it ever so slightly. She doesn't hate it, couldn't even if she wanted to. It fills her up and turns her vision red, lights up all the dull and flat greys she's faced with day in, day out.

But every time it leaves, she almost begs it to stay. Whenever it comes she latches onto it as a dying woman would hold onto her last breath of air. The days grow colder as summer gives way for autumn until no amount of open fires, ovens or furs can take away the chill Sakura feels deep in her bones. Only the whisper can take the cold away, light the fire in her belly. Without it, she shivers, can't move, is turned to ice. She wants it with her every single second of every single day but it is elusive.

All her frustration evaporates the moment she feels it stir. Sakura is intimately attuned to it now, listens and breathes in sync with it whenever it crawls to the surface. She can hear it, smell it, feel it, even see it. Her eyes have adjusted and are no longer fooled by what the whisper calls her armour. It is an illusion, it explains, that protects her from those who would seek to harm her.

“Harm me?” she asks in the dead of the night when she's under a mountain of blankets, on the verge of falling asleep after a rich feast. She's full and happy, too satisfied to worry about anything at all. The whisper hums and Sakura feels the vibrations in every inch of her soul as her throat rumbles to copy and imitate the sound on its own accord.

_'You are special. Humans are afraid of what they don't understand. You must never let them know that you are special, child. If you do, you will be cold for the rest of your days.'_

A shiver runs down her spine and Sakura instinctively buries even deeper into her nest. She knows the cold now, is terrified of it, hates it so much the fury nearly takes her breath away. She can't be cold. She _can't_.

“Why am I special?” she murmurs, voice shaky, disturbed and unsettled. Despite the whisper, her insides have turned to ice. Her skin is bumpy, her every breath leaves behind visible puffs of air, her entire body shakes and she's freezing, thin layers of frost creep along her hair, turn her lashes white and solid-

_'Because you are me.'_

Suddenly and without warning, the cold is gone. Searing heat slams into her, burns so hot and bright it nearly sets her on fire and Sakura gasps, kicks the blankets away from her and arches her back, wide eyes stuck on the glowing and swirling red lines that spread from her stomach to her legs and arms, curl around her limbs and turn whatever they touch into a wildfire.

_'I am your fire, I am your flame, I am your everything.'_

Once the shock passes Sakura realises that she's not burning up, that she's not dying in fiery agony, that she's... cosy. She stares at the lines which still cover her entire body, angry red now a muted orange the colour of which rouses memories she can't grasp, the smell of charred bodies, raw meat, blood and flesh. She sees black, red and orange, a dash of yellow and blue, desperation, tears, whispered apologies, an old man, and hears a name.

“Kurama,” she echoes what lies right at the front of her mind, something so old and ancient she wants to go on her knees and offer her palms in supplication. Something infinitely larger and more powerful than her but, most importantly, something that represents the flame that never dies out, the heat that never wanes, the eternal fire of this land.

_'The ones who rule this village have merged our souls to snuff out my flame and turn you into my sacrifice,'_ the whisper growls and Sakura lies on her back, stares at the ceiling, and listens.

_'They deemed you unimportant. A child of two civilians without worth of its own. A lamb, ready for slaughter.'_ The heat increases as she feels a taste of a primal rage that always teeters on the edge of her awareness, always there, never waning, an ever-present hint of what lies beneath the surface.

_'But they underestimated you. You are strong and because of you, though weakened, I could reach through the bars and made them forget.'_ Sakura sees bits and pieces of a man without a face drawing dark lines on her skin, a woman with hair a shade so red it inherently disgusts her and _hates_.

_'We are clever, you and I. You have kept me safe and for that, I shall keep you warm and strong, give you the power you need to protect your flame against those who would seek to extinguish it.'_ The whisper seeps into every last cell of her body, an amalgamation of shadow and fire, searing wind and a dark dry place.

“You'll keep me warm?” she asks, not quite there, just a little too far to the left, a little too high above. She doesn't feel tethered to her body, is little more than a stream of consciousness that latches onto the whispers, safe, sound, sheltered and protected. A small smile creeps onto her lips as Sakura rolls to the side and curls into a ball once more. The lines on her skin retreat bit by bit, but never once lose their soft orange glow.

_'Always,'_ the whisper purrs and Sakura echoes the sound as she lies on her bed, blankets and furs strewn all around her, and exuding the heat of a roaring wildfire that burns strong and bright just beneath her skin.

“Enjoy yourself, my little spark.” Sakura barely hears her mother's words. She wears three shirts, two jackets, and the thickest pants she could find but she feels like an icicle, like she's freezing to death, and her entire body shakes, teeth chatters, hands shiver and she's absolutely miserable. Her mother leaves her at the gate and Sakura looks up, stares at the giant building in front of her and bites the inside of her cheek to suppress the anger she feels.

She has to be here, she knows this, Kurama told her how important it is that she grows strong. He has promised to help but she has to fit in, has to be normal, or what she feels right now, the chill will mark the rest of her existence. Sakura shivers and releases a single breath before trudging through the snow.

The bad people are here, she knows this because Kurama told her and if she concentrates just hard enough she can feel the jarring, almost blinding, sharp and jagged flares of bright light that are somewhere in the building, waiting to welcome her and the others into their society of blood, money, and death. They are the reason why she is cold, because they know Kurama and so he has to hide until they are gone. The chances of them noticing him are slim. Still, Sakura understands that it's not a risk they can afford to take. She's not a lamb and she doesn't want to be slaughtered. Even if she has to freeze for a short while.

She thinks of her home, how warm everything is, how she can shed these layers and feel the heat on her bare skin. She thinks of the fresh meat her mother prepares for her five times a day, thinks of tearing it apart with her teeth, the blood that runs down her chin, the way her nails sharpen and claw at her food, the soft and juicy fibres, the taste of iron, so warm, so delicious, so _good_.

A faint hint of black flickers in front of her vision as the tiniest hint of warmth returns to her bones. Sakura stops in front of the door, rests her palm against it, and pulls her lips into a smile just like her mother had shown her. Smiling is important, mother said. People who smile are unremarkable and that is what she should aim to be.

Sakura has never truly understood her mother who always looks into her eyes and nowhere else, who sometimes sits still without reacting or looking anywhere at all, who seems endlessly content to fulfil her every desire, do whatever she likes. Sakura wouldn't want to live like that.

_'You command her, though you are not aware of it,'_ the whisper had told her when she had wondered about the oddity of her mother one too many times. Sakura, who cannot remember ever having told her mother to do anything accepts the explanation as just one more way in which she is different, just one more quality that makes her special. She is one with the whisper and trusts it to never lead her astray.

She's one of the first children to arrive. The men at the front of her room look at her once, then pay her little attention. Sakura knows she is not important to them, knows she is just a civilian who is not expected to ever amount to much. So she keeps her head down and takes a seat in the corner.

She barely registers the children that enter afterwards. They are called Uchiha, Yamanaka, Nara, Akimichi, Inuzuka, Hyuuga... she stops listening and instead pulls her knees close to her chest to keep warm without showing just how cold she is. Just a few more minutes, she tells herself. When the men are gone the whisper will come back.

It is when the last name is announced that suddenly and without warning, Sakura is consumed by an overwhelming need to bite, rip and tear, to taste blood, break bones, feast on marrow. Without a warning, the whisper is there, everywhere, and while it restrains her, keeps her still and in place, she feels its burning fury, the sheer wrath, the urge to leap and break out of her skin, to become one, become _whole_.

One of the men at the front draws a sharp breath and looks around. The fury is gone as quickly as it came and only the shadows binding her remain. Sakura glares at the table in front of her, is unremarkable, unimportant, _shedoesnotmatter_ -

Unbeknownst to her, her eyes flash red and the man's own glaze over.

“Sit down, Uzumaki.” The spell is broken, Sakura can move and breathe once more and cradles her head to try and gain control over the anger that isn't entirely her own. She stares at the boy, the one with blonde hair and blue eyes she recalls from her worst nightmares, as he walks up the stairs and picks a seat on the other side of the classroom.

_'This one... this one shall be the first,'_ the whisper growls later when the men are gone and the one in front has begun lecturing them on what he calls chakra theory. Sakura glares at the boy who is oblivious to her attention, gazes upon the baby fat still clinging to his cheeks, the softness of his features, the cursed blue of his eyes.

“Yes,” Sakura murmurs under her breath.

“He shall be the first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't entirely clear, Kurama is the one who brings the cold by simply denying his power and self to Sakura. He is stuck in her body but has a lot of control over his power. Sakura and he are fused due to the nature of the seal and she literally needs his chakra to survive. Without it, she will starve and freeze to death.  
> He's manipulating her, and lies to her both about what happened and that him warming her is a service he provides when in truth, he made her freeze all her life, made her colder and colder, then gave her the full brunt of his chakra to seem like he can only give, rather than take.  
> I hope it makes sense. Kurama is a tricky bastard and if he makes Sakura addicted to him and his chakra so she believes he is her friend and he takes care of her, he knows she is beholden to him. He has power but her body is still her body and gaining her cooperation is a) buying him the time he needs to get strong enough to break free and b) ensures she keeps quiet.
> 
> Anyway. Hope you liked the chapter. I swear I did try.

**Author's Note:**

> I will be updating this in between other oneshots and my main AU fic. Let me know what you think. :)


End file.
